Mama's Little Girl
by Lady of the Spirit
Summary: Oneshot. Fem!Canada. - Canada always wanted to look like her mama. You'd have to be blind to not know that Native America was the most beautiful Ancient ever. But then... the White Strangers came. And with them, came the first man that Canada had ever hated.


**Mama's Little Girl**

…**.**

**Genre: Family, and some hurt/comfort**

**Rating: K, or K+. Or T.**

**Characters: Fem!Canada, Native America (who should be a real character, my opinion), America, and Jerk!Britain. Yay. Brief mentions of Aztec Empire, Mexico, and Pirate!Spain. Jerky Pirate!Spain. And France. YAY FOR FRANCE! **

**Warning: Historical inaccuracy, blood, and jerk Britain. And mentions of bastardish Spain.**

**Disclaimer: Do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers. Or anything related to it. I guess I kinda own Native America, but she's kind of like a universal character, I guess, so… know what, I'm just gonna say I own her, okay?**

…**..**

Canada knew that, when she grew up, she wanted to look just like her mama.

How could she not want to look like her mama? You would have to be a fool not to realize that Native America, or Kachina as she was known by her loved ones, was very beautiful. Her hair, long and straight, was the color of raven feathers and shone in the sunlight. Her skin was the warm mixture of red and brown, a perfect combination that her people could only hope to imitate.

If you had to choose Canada's favourite feature of her mama, she would say it was her eyes.

Native America's eyes were the same dark brown color as her people - but somehow, they were different. They were darker, and deeper too, holding the wisdom and peace and magic that came with being an Ancient. You would look into them, and you would swear that Native America's eyes were staring straight into your soul. They most likely could, actually.

Canada had once asked her twin brother, America, what his favourite feature of his mother was. He had answered, "Her battle markings!" Kachina had red stripes of paint streaked across her cheeks, and a few lines running from her mouth down to her chin as well. When Canada had asked why, America had exclaimed, "Because they show how awesome our mom's powers can be!" This had caused Kachina to start laughing, and she wrapped her arms around both her children and told them stories of animal Spirits and Gods.

….

"Mama," She said one day, as Kachina was braiding her daughter's hair into two braids. "Am I pretty?"

Kachina had stopped braiding Canada's hair then, and took her daughter by her shoulders and turned her around, gently. "_Sitsi_," She said, gently cupping her daughters face in her brown hands. "You are _beautiful, _not just pretty. But," she continued, seeing her daughter smile. "Beauty isn't only what is on the outside. Beauty is on the inside as well." Kachina placed a hand over her daughters heart. "To truly be beautiful, you must be beautiful and pure of heart."

Canada had been silent then, for a moment, before she asked, very softly, "Am I pure of heart, mama?"

And Kachina had laughed, thrown her head back and laughed, before burying her face into her daughter's soft, short black hair, so much like her own. "Yes, my daughter. You have one of the purest hearts I have ever seen."

After that conversation, Canada began to disregard her looks almost entirely, focusing more on being a pure-hearted person instead. Canada knew, without a doubt, that she didn't just want to _look_ like her mama. She wanted to _be_ like her mama, too. And her mama had one of the purest hearts that Canada had ever seen.

….

"What's wrong with mother?" America whispered to his twin sister softly, his eyes soft with concern as the two Native countries watched their mother lie on the ground, her body wracking with silent sobs.

"I don't know." Canada frowned, holding her brothers hand gently. She gave it a small tug. "Come on, lets go."

And the two of them had walked slowly over to Kachina, crouching down next to her and watching her with big dark brown eyes. Neither of them spoke, though they were both sure that Kachina had heard them approaching. Finally, America was brave enough to speak up. "Mom?"

And the Ancient had suddenly stopped sobbing, and she opened her eyes and looked up at her children with tear-filled orbs. _"Cheveyo."_ She said, before reaching out to her twins and pulling them to her chest, burying her face in their hair.

"Mama, why are you crying?" Canada asked softly, nuzzling up against her mother's soft buckskin dress.

There was a long silence in the tent. Finally, Kachina spoke. When she did, her voice was hoarse and angry. "A terrible man killed Aztec."

Instantly, the two younger ones let out loud gasps. They had met Aztec before, and they liked him! He was friends with their mother! He was the Aztec Empire! How could he have been killed? How was it possible for Ancients to be killed, anyway?

Native America kissed both her children's foreheads gently. "Never forget about me. Please."

Canada and America had both instantly started exclaiming _of course, they would never forget their mother, how could she even suggest such a thing?_

"Who?" America asked, chewing on his thumb. "Who killed Aztec?"

Kachina was silent again, but then she answered. "A man. A man from a land, far away from here." She looked out across her lands forest, her dark brown eyes angry and sad and fearful all at once. "Called Spain."

….

Canada knew, the instant she saw the white strangers, she didn't like them.

The one she had to say she disliked the most, was probably the one in the front - the man with the corn-colored hair and grass-green eyes. It was his eyes that made Canada dislike him instantly - they were filled with greed and blood lust.

She hated him. And Kachina agreed with her.

"Those are the same strangers that killed Maya." She muttered, her eyes narrowing as she watched the white strangers walk out across _her _beaches, laughing jovially as they did so. The Aboriginals hid in the shadows of the forest, waiting and watching to see if the white strangers would be of any danger to them. Both Canada and America made small noises of protest as Kachina got to her feet and walked out across the beach.

Until she was right in front of the white strangers.

The one in front - the one Canada liked the least - looked startled at the appearance of her mother. He quickly recovered, though. "Who are you, and what are you doing on my lands?" He demanded, glaring at her.

Kachina glared back, with a stare that would have had a full grown grizzly bear running away. This man was stronger than that, however, and didn't cower under her gaze (though Canada noted with some satisfaction that his knees were shaking just slightly). "I am Kachina, the personification of Native America. _These _lands are _my _lands, stranger, and you are trespassing on my people's soil! I forbid you, or any of your companions, to advance one step past this beach. Withdraw _immediately_!"

The man simply smirked, as if amused by the woman's order. "I won't take orders from a _savage._ Now get out of my way, and I won't be forced to hurt you."

Kachina's dark brown eyes blazed with a fire that no Aboriginal or nation had ever seen before. "I will not! Who are you to give me orders, stranger? You are on my lands now. You are in no place to be giving me commands!"

"Please, miss," The man said, changing his approach from angry and commanding to calm and pleading. "I only wish to liberate these lands from the Indians."

Now it was Kachina's turn to smirk. "Liberate?" She asked sweetly. "You mean, destroy my people's culture and kill me, like Spain did to Aztec, don't you?"

It seemed like the stranger hadn't been expecting her to say that at all. "How do you-"

"_He killed Aztec!"_ Kachina yelled, startling everyone who had heard her. "He killed her in front of her child, and now Mexico is under the control of that bastard! Now you expect me to stand by and peacefully watch you as you kill my people and take my children from me?" Not even letting him say anything, Kachina suddenly whipped around and yelled into the forest, speaking her Native tongue so the strangers wouldn't understand her. "_Kanata! _Take America and run away from here, _now_!"

Neither child moved, to transfixed on the scene in front of them. _"KANATA!" _No one had ever heard Native America yell like that, ever. "Take America and RUN! _NOW!"_ America had begun to cry, terrified of the white strangers with their long, sharp weapons and their bright clothing and their freakish skin color and scared that they would hurt his mother _because he wasn't strong enough to stop them from doing anything!_

Canada wasn't crying. It was strange, really, when she looked back on it much, much later in life. Maybe it was because her "hero" brother was crying. Maybe it was because she knew that if her brother couldn't be the hero, she would have to be the hero instead. Maybe it was this thought that made her seize her still crying brother's dark-skinned arm, pull him to his feet, and drag him off into the forest, while the white stranger's greedy green eyes widened, and he began yelling at his comrades to _GET THE CHILDREN! GET THEM BEFORE THEY GET AWAY! _The other white men let out noises of agreement, and began to race after the two small Nations.

They might have been able to succeed in catching them too, if it hadn't been for Kachina. She let out a screech of pure fury, and threw her hands out. A burst of pure white light exploded from her body, and her raven hair flew out at all ends as her eyes blazed and her dress wildly flapped around her legs. _**DON'T YOU **__**DARE**__** TOUCH THEM! **_The cry radiated through everyone's ears, nearly shattering their eardrums. The scream gave Canada and America enough time to get a good distance away from the white strangers. The white stranger with the green eyes let out a yell of fury, seized an odd looking, curved, metal thing from his belt, pointed it at Kachina, and pressed down on a small switch.

BANG!

Silence.

Then, as the Natives watched, their eyes widened with horror as Native America fell backwards, her black hair flying upwards, blood pouring from her chest, and her eyes rolling back into her head.

More silence.

Then the battle cry of a hundred Natives as they rushed down the beach, holding their weapons high in the air as they sprinted across the sand (taking special care to avoid Kachina's body) toward the white strangers that had dared to come onto their lands and kill their honorary mother. A battle had broken out, flashes of silver from the strangers metal weapons and BANGS from similar weapons that had killed Kachina, and stabs and shrieks and lunges and slashes and streaks of blood in the air as the Aboriginals fought back just as fierce.

Neither America nor Canada saw or heard any of this, however. They had run away, as fast as their legs would carry them, away from the beach, and away from their Mama. Canada was still dragging her brother along as he stumbled over rocks and branches stretched out across the ground.

Neither of them noticed, but as they continued to run, their pitch-black hair was slowly lightening, as was their eyes and their skin color.

Finally, when they had stopped running, they had dropped to the ground, breathing heavily. America had finally stopped his sobs, and began wiping away the remaining tears on his face. "S-Sitsi…" he sniffed, rubbing his eyes. You could tell when America was being serious, because he used Canada's human name, something that normally only their mother did. He only reserved that for very serious times. "Mother-"

"She's gone, Cheveyo." Canada said, reaching out and hugging her brother gently, using his human name like he had used hers.

"Sitsi…" America rubbed one of his fingers against her cheek. "You look different."

Canada had pulled away from America then, looking at her brother in shock. "You look different too!" She exclaimed, her eyes widening in horror. Her brother's dark skin had been turned white, like the skin of the white strangers that had killed their mother. His eyes turned the color of the sky, an incredibly bright shade of blue. His hair, though it still was the same length, had been colored wheat-gold - nearly the same shade as the stranger that had killed Mama, only a few shades darker.

Canada let out a small shriek as she held up her own hands to her eyes, and saw that her fingers, hands, arms, and the rest of her skin had turned the same shade of white that America's had turned. She grabbed a few pieces of hair and held it in front of her eyes for inspection. The inky-black tresses had turned the exact same shade of gold that the white strangers leader's hair had been.

"Your eyes are weird, Sitsi." America said quietly, rubbing his eyes. "I've never seen a color like that before."

Canada had been silent for a long time, before flinging her arms around her brothers neck and sobbing into his chest. "I wanted to look like mama! I don't want to look like those monsters!"

America and Canada had cried themselves to sleep that night. That awful, horrible night.

In the morning, they had both agreed it was time for them to part. Canada would go North, and America would stay where he was. Kachina had told them that they would have to do it eventually, to learn the different ways of their people. However reluctantly, they had said their goodbyes.

"Remember mother, alright, _Sitsa_?" America said, holding her by her shoulders while she gripped his biceps. "We promised we would never forget her."

Canada had laughed softly. "I'll always remember her. You remember her too, alright, _Cheveyo?_ Remember her culture and her people's ways. Don't forget her, and she will never truly die."

The two siblings had hugged each other one last time, before separating, and walking away in different directions.

Neither looked back. They knew that, if they did, they would not be able to leave.

…..

Many years later, more European's had come to what had once been Native America's lands. Canada had been found and adopted by a blonde man, who went by the name of "France", or "Francis", as he wanted her to call him.

She insisted on calling him "papa". And he liked it. In turn, he had named her "Madeline", a respectable French name. She liked the name, and agreed to change from "Sitsi" to "Madeline".

But Canada never forgotten her mother, and wouldn't let her people's culture disappear. France knew this, and respected it.

But then, one day, a few years after Canada had been discovered (and when she had taken on the form of an eight year old girl) France had taken her to meet one of his friends and his adopted son. They had arrived at a castle-like mansion. Canada had made a noise of disapproval, thinking of how many trees had been cut down and how many Natives had been forced out of their homes for the mansion to be built.

"On your best behaviour, _mon cherie_." France reminded her softly. Canada nodded, but didn't say anything.

The door of the mansion had opened. The person that came out was the very person that had made hate appear in Canada's heart so many years ago.

_Him._

"_Angleterre!" _France called cheerfully, beaming. "So wonderful to see you again!"

"Shut up, frog." Britain snapped, glaring at him. His eyes had found their way to Canada, who was currently glaring at him in a way that made him feel like she would be glad to see him dead. Which she would have been. "Who's this?"

"This, Britain, is my daughter, Canada." France put a hand on her back, and gently pushed her forward. "Say 'ello to Angleterre, Madeline."

Canada hadn't said a word. Just continued to glare. And her upper lip had curled back as she let out a feral sounding snarl that made both men stare at her in surprise.

"Madeline?" France asked softly, looking concerned. "What is wrong?"

Canada's violet eyes continued to bore into Britain's emerald green ones, like she was daring him to say or do anything. Finally, she opened her mouth, and spoke a single word. _"Bâtard." _

While Britain raised an eyebrow, looking a little irritated at the girls use of a French word, France gasped. It wasn't the fact that Madeline was swearing at Britain that was surprising - if it had been anyone else, he would have laughed and agreed with it. But it was _Canada _swearing. _Canada. Madeline. _

Canada spoke again. _"Vous avez tué maman."_

Britain glared at the girl. "She's part of the America's, isn't she?"

France nodded, looking at his daughter with wide eyes.

"Figures." Britain snorted.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Canada hissed, her eyes narrowing, not even caring that Britain looked slightly surprised that she spoke English.

Before the older Nation could open his mouth to speak, there was suddenly a small boy by his side, staring at the two new people with wide blue eyes. Any other insulting words that Canada had planned to say died in her throat as she stared at the boy.

"Mr. Britain?" The boy asked, looking up at the green-eyed man. "Who are they?"

"No one, America. Just a frog and his daughter." Britain said scathingly, still glaring at Canada as she continued to stare wide-eyed at his "little brother".

America smiled. "Okay!" Then, he looked back at Canada, who hadn't taken her eyes off him once. He squinted at her, looking thoughtful. "You look familiar. Do I know you?"

Canada's expression darkened. _"Cheveyo."_

America looked at her in confusion. "No, I'm America."

If possible, Canada's expression became even darker. Then, she said something in a completely different language that wasn't French or English, or even International. **(International is the language that all the nations speak together, so they can understand each other.) **_"Do you understand me?"_

America looked from Canada, to France, to Britain. "What is she saying?" Both of the older Nations shrugged, though France had a good idea of what language she was speaking.

Canada's face seemed to get even darker. A dark red aura seemed to be surrounding her, though it was very faint. "What are you doing with this tea loving _bâtard_?" She pointed a single finger at Britain, whose eyes narrowed as she pointed at him. "He killed mama!"

Now America looked even more confused, poor boy. "Mr. Britain is my big brother! I never had a mama! What are you-"

The other half of North America was cut off as a blur of dark blue fabric and yellow hair lunged at him, screeching furiously. Both of the older male Nations yelped as Canada attacked America, knocking him to the ground as she hit and scratched at every bit of skin visible to her furious eyes. America would have fought back, but 'Mr. Britain', as he so _lovingly_ called the tea loving bastard, had told him "a gentleman does not hit a lady, even when she attacks first." So America was reduced to simply holding up his arms as the crazy French colony hit and scratched and kicked and slapped at him with all the strength in her body.

Finally, France and Britain finally managed to separate the two fighting children (or more specifically, the fighting girl and the defensive boy). France had been too shocked to even scold Canada, as she fought against his grip and screeched words in a different language at America, who was currently cowering in Britain's arms.

"You savage!" Britain snarled, his eyes ablaze with emerald fire. "Just like the woman who gave birth to you, aren't you?!" He smirked suddenly, bringing his trembling little colony closer to him. "She was a pretty creature, wasn't she? But a heathen to the very end, which, of course, I had the honor of bringing upon her-"

"SHUT UP ABOUT MY MOTHER!" Canada screamed, still flailing wildly in France's hold, no matter how much he whispered in French for her to _calm down, we can go home now, calm down Madeline. _"Have some decency! Let her spirit rest in peace!"

Britain sneered. "Her spirit is where it belongs - in hell! How can you still respect her, after seeing her like that? Weak enough to be taken down by a single bullet. She was weak, an insult to the Ancients -"

"SILENCE!" Canada roared, her eyes blazing. "I will permit _NO ONE_ to insult my mother! _NO ONE!_ Papa, get off me!" She yelled at France, who had finally decided to just pull her away from the two other Nations, back towards the carriage that would take them to the boat that would bring them back to France.

"Don't bring her around here ever again, Frog!" Britain yelled at France as he finally succeeded in pulling Canada to the carriage. "Not until she learns some manners!"

"YOU FORGOT MAMA!" Canada screamed at America. "YOU BROKE YOUR PROMISE, _CHEVEYO_! YOU BROKE IT! YOU FORGOT HER! I'LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!"

…..

It had been many years since that fateful day. Many centuries, in fact. So much had happened. Canada had been taken away from her papa, and lived with Britain for a very long time. Britain had finally apologized to her for killing her mother, and she accepted his apology, but she never quite forgave him. She was scared that, should she forgive him, she would forget her mother. She never, ever wanted to forget her mother.

Canada had become her own nation, for the most part. She was still technically a part of the British empire, but she was her own nation, and she didn't live with him anymore.

She had forgiven America too, for forgetting their mother. She understood that the trauma had probably been too much for him at such a young age, and he had pushed it out of his mind. When she had told him she forgave him, he had looked at her in confusion, not understanding what she was forgiving him for. She only laughed and hugged him tightly, before walking out of the World Meeting with a sleeping Kumajirou safely curled up in her arms.

….

"So, where's Maddie?" America asked, looking around the World Meeting's table for any sign of his honorary twin sister. "I need to ask her something 'bout her health care my boss wants me to look into." He rolled his eyes at this. _How does she expect her country to make money if she doesn't charge her patients?_

He seemed completely unaware of the fact that most of the people who had heard him say this gave him confused looks, unaware as to who "Maddie" was. The Hero couldn't care less, seeing as he was getting slightly concerned about Canada. She was never late for a meeting - well, besides that one time, but that was ages ago! And he had seen her yesterday, talking with Prussia - he would have to look into that one later on.

"Yo, Britain!" He yelled across the table to the bushy-browed Nation. "Have you seen-"

He was cut off as the door to the conference room cracked open and the very girl he wanted to see appeared. "Sorry I'm late, you would not _believe_ what I had to go through to find a decent pancake place in this city."

"MADDIE!" The over-energetic American leapt to his feet and bounded towards the door. "You're here! Good, I have-" America suddenly stopped talking, and he froze in place as he took in his sisters appearance.

Her blonde hair had been dyed completely black, right down to the roots. Streaked across her cheeks, forehead, and nose were small stripes of red paint. She had put colored contacts into her eyes, so now they were a warm brown instead of violet. Hanging from her neck was a beaded necklace. (It kinda looked like the necklace that the Indian girl from that Disney movie had had! What was her name again? It was Poca-something, that's all he knew.) Her earrings had been designed to look like dreamcatchers, with long feathers that reached Maddie's shoulder.

"Maddie?" America finally said, staring at his sister with wide eyes.

"Yes, Alfred?" She asked innocently, taking a sip of her coffee. _Not as good as Tim's…_

"What happened to you?" He finally spluttered out, giving her the once-over over and over again.

Canada smiled and looked down at herself. "It's June 21st."

**June 21st = National Aboriginal Day in Canada.**

"**Tim" is Tim Hortons, a Canadian coffee company.**

**Translations:**

**Bâtard: Bastard.**

**Vous avez tué maman: You killed mama.**

**Meanings of their names:**

**Sitsi - Daughter (real original, right?)**

**Cheveyo - Spirit Warrior**

**Headcanons: **

**1. Before the Europeans came to the New World, both Canada and America looked like all the other Natives - dark skin, dark eyes, dark hair, you know. It doesn't make sense for them to have blonde hair and white skin when the land was filled with dark-skinned Natives, does it? **

**2. All the Ancients from North and South America knew each other and were friends with each other. They were all women, because they were the Mothers of their lands and their people. **

**3. America's "hero" attitude comes from when he saw his mother die, and couldn't do anything about it. Since then, he has felt the need to try and save everyone, because he couldn't save his mother.**

**4. Native America has magic powers. The end.**

**5. America doesn't remember his mother, because he isn't good with sad things, and the trauma of the situation forced him to put it out of his mind. That's why he so easily forgave Britain for what he did to his people.**

**6. Before they became "Madeline" and "Alfred", Canada and America had Native American names, and only their mother used them, and she only used them when they were alone. Otherwise, Canada became Kanata, and America was America.**

**7. Whenever Aboriginal Day comes around, Canada dyes her hair black, wears brown colored contacts, puts on face paint to imitate her mothers markings, and wears the accessories that her mother had worn when she was alive. Basically, she wants to look like her mother to honor her memory on that day.**

**Sorry, England lovers! Sorry, Spain lovers! They're both kinda jerks when they were mentioned or shown! **


End file.
